I dreaded that first robin so,
But he is mastered now,
And I'm accustomed to him grown,--
He hurts a little, though.
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I am convinced that this was written towards the end of Emily Dickinson's life when she knew she wouldn't last the year - dreading, yet anticipating the spring. So bittersweet, this awakening of the year!
.............a most astonishingly beautiful poem....love this adding to my favorites ★